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Vou, LL. No. &] AUGUST, 1894. (PRICE ONE PENNY. 


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‘CONTENTS 


Between Ourselves. 


The Duties of the Present Hour 
By ERRICO MALATESTA. 


God and The State. 
By MICHAEL BAKUNIN. 


The Balance of Power. 
By HENRY SEYMOUR. 


Proudhon and Communism. 


My Uncle Benjamin. 
By Craupe Tivuier. 


The Voice of Toil. 


By Witvtiam Morris. 


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WILLIAM REEVES. 185, FLEET STREET, EC. 
Pe TAT UARMAGAULE HORE. 7, PRABIX ROAD, HAM 


GOD AND THE STATE. 


Preo< 


EXTRACTS FROM UNEDITED MANUSCRIPTS OF 
MICHAEL BAKUNIN. 
(TRANSLATED FOR “LIBERTY BY “NY ) 


(Continued from No. 7 J 


Revolt against the State is much easier because there 18 something 
in the very nature of the State which provokes revolt. The State is 
authority, force ; ostentatious and infatuated force. The State does 
not ingratiate--does not try to convert ; or, whenever it attempts to 
do so, does it with the worst possible grace ; for it 1s not its nature to 
persuade, but to impose itself on men, and coerce them. However it 
may try to disguise its own character as the legal violater of human 
will, and the permanent negation of human freedom, yet even when 
commanding what is good it spoils it, precisely because commanding it. 
For every command provokes and incites to legitimate revolt for free- 
dom; besides which, the moment it is commanded, good becomes evil 
from the standpoint of true morality—that is, of the morality which 
is not divine, but is based upon respect for human nature and its 
freedom. Freedom, morality, and the digmty of man consist pre- 
cisely in this, that a man acts rightly, not because he is ordered to do 
so, but because he understands, wills, and prefers right conduct. 

Society, on the other hand, does not impose itself formally, officially, 
authoritatively ; but naturally. And for this very reason its influence 
on the individual is incomparably stronger than that of the State. It 
creates and forms all individuals born and developed in its bosom. It 
inoculates them slowly, from the day of their birth to their death, 
with its own physical, intellectual, and moral character. It becomes, so 
to speak, individualised in each of them. 

The human individual is no universal and abstract being. On the 
contrary, from the moment he begins to develop in his mother’s womb, 
he is already determined and particularised by countless causes and 
influences, physica', geographical, climatic, ethnographical, hygienic, 
and consequently also economic influences, which together constitute 
the character peculiar to his family, class, nation, and race. And since 
the inclinations and faculties of men depend ou the sum of all these 
exterior or physical influences, it follows that everybody is born witha 
materially determined individual character. Owing, moreover, to the 
relatively superior organization of the human brain, every man when 
he is born is possessed in varying degrees—not, of innate ideas and 
sentiments as the idealists pretend; but of the material and formal 
ability to feel, to think, to speak, and to will. He possesses merely 
the faculty for forming and developing ideas, without any actual con- 
tent whatever. What first gives him this content?  Scciety. 

We need not here examine how the first nofions and ideas in primi. 
tive society were formed ; for the most part they were naturally very 
absurd. All that we can say with fall certainty is that they were not 
at first severally and spontaneously created by the miraculously 
illuminated spirit of inspired individuals, but. by the collective and 
generally imperceptible work of the spirit of all individuals who formed 
part of these socteties ; of which spirit the remarkable individuals— the 
men of genius—could never do more than give the fittest and most 
forcible expression. Men of genius have ever, like Voltaire, * picked 
up their good things wherever they found them.” Thus the collective 
intellectual labour of primitive societies created the first ideas. ‘These 
ideas were at the outset nothing but simple, and obviously very tm. 
perfect statements of natural and social facts, together with still less 
accurate conclusions drawn from these facts. This was the begining 
of all human perceptions, imaginations, and thoughts. The content of 
these thoughts, far from having been created by a spontaneous act of 
the human spirit, was first given by the real world, external to man, 
as well as the world within him. The spuit of man— that is, the 
organic and entirely material activity and the way in which he per 
forms the function of his brain, as bronght about by the external and 
internal impressions transmitted to it through the nerves -ouly adds 
the formal work of comparing and combining these ipressions of 
things into systems, which may be might or wrong. Ta this way ideas 
first origimated. By the use of Janguace these first ideas, or rather 
suppositions, were determined and fixed, through beimey transnatted 
from one human being to another ; thas the individual suppositions of 
each person were met, controlled, moditied, and completed by those of 
other Persons , 
they ended by forming the common cousciousness, the collective 
thought of society. These thoughts, transmitted by tradition from 
veneration to generation, and always more or less developed hy the 
mtellectual labor of centuries, constitute the intellectual and moral 
patrimony of a society, a class, a nation 

Bach new veneration finds from the cradle a whole world of ideas, 
suppositions, and sentiments whieh at decepts as the heritage of past 
centuries, 
under its ideal aspect as a system of netious and ideas, 
@ doctrine: a child would not be able to apprehend and understand at 
under this form; but itis imposed asa world of facts cmbodied and 
realised ta all persons and thites arotid too and whieh he sees from 
the first day of his lite. 
thang but the produets of realities, natural and socal, an the sense of 


and bemy more or less consolidated into one system 


This world of ideas is not presented to the new-born infant 
asa religion, 


Por hamiein ideas, having beer erieinally me- 


bem the retlex or echo of sneh realities tn the human lram, tovether 
with ther ideal and more or less diserimiminate reproduetion by this 


tbsolutely materi orean of Taman thoucht, these ideas and netions, 


(August, T89d. 


ee 


having become well established inthe way described in the colle 
conscience of society, later acquire in their turn the power to 
causes, producing new facts, not merely natural bot social 

by slowly modifying and transforming the existenc e, adie 
tutions, in short all the social relations of men; and being 
in the most usual matters of everyday life, they become perceptible 
palpable, for everybody, even for children. In this way each new gen, 
eration is penetrated by them from infaney ; and having grown hoa 
ave When the proper work of its own thought begins, accompanied of 
course by the application of fresh criticism, it finds within. itself rui 
in surrounding society, a whole world of established ideas and 
notions which are its starting point, furmishing in some way the raw 
material for its own intellectual and moral work. To this world “Gt 
ideas belong those traditional and general forms of thought which 
metaphysicians, deceived by the insensible and imperceptible way in 
which they enter and are impressed on the brains of children from 
without, even before self-consciousness —beyins,— erroneously cal] 
“annate ideas.” 

Of this kind are the general abstract ideas of deity and the soul: 
ideas in themselves altogether absurd, but which inevitably and deter. 
minately arose during the historic development of the human mind 
The human spirit, arriving only slowly and after the lapse of many cen. 
turies at a rational and critical understanding of itself and its own 
proper manifestations, always starts from the absurd to arrive at the 
truth, and from slavery to conquer freedom, These ideas (of deity 
and the soul) have been sanctioned by universal ignorance, and by 
the stupidity of ages, as well as by the well considered interests cf 
tho privileged classes, to such a degree that even to-day it is impos. 
sible to speak in open and popular language against them without 
wlienating a considerable part of the people, and risking being stoned 
by bourgeois hypocrisy. 

Besides these quite abstract ideas, and always in close connection 
with them, the adult meets in society, and also within himself, and 
owing to the all-powerful influence of society on his own childbood, a 
number of otber notions and ideas of afar more determined kind, touch- 
ing more closely on real life and his own daily experience. Such notions 
are those on nature and man, on justice, the duties and rights: of 
individuals and classes, on social conventions, on the family, property, 
and the State, besides many other notions on the relations existing 
between meu. All these ideas which a child finds embodied in things 
and in men and which are impressed cn its own mind by education 
and instruction before he bas even arrived at self-consciousness, 
all these ideas he will find later on in Jife consecrated, explained, 
commented upon by those theories which express the universal con- 
science or the collective prejudice, and by all religious, political, and 
economic institutions of the society to which he belongs. And he will 
be so impregnated with them himself that, whether or not he is jer: 
sonally interested in their defence, he has become involuntarily, by a‘ 
his material, intellectual and moral habits their accomplice, 

We must not wonder, therefore, at the all powerful it fluence over 
the bulk of anankind, of these ideas which express the collective con- 
science of society, but on the contrary we should rather wonder at the 
fact that, in this mass, individuals are found who have the intelligence, 
will and courage to combat them. For the pressure of society ou the 
individual is iMMense and there is no character-nor intelligence which 
would be strong and powerful enough to pretend to be entirely safe 
from attacks of this equally despotical and irresistible influence. 

Nothing proves the social character of men as this influence dovs. 
We might say that the collective couscience of a society, incarnated 
as well in the great puble institutions as in all the details of its 
private life, and being the basis of all its theories, forms a hind of 
milieu, of an intellectual and moral atmosphere, obstructing but ab- 
solutely necessary to the existence of all ats members. By at they 
are at the same tie dominated, penetrated, and sustained, being bound 
together among themselves by customary rapports which are neces- 
sarily determined by this collective conscience itself and which msure 
to everybody security, and constitute for all, the supreme condition of 
the existence of the nuagjerity, banality, common-place routine. 

The large majority of men, not only of the people but also of the 
privileged and educated classes (and the latter often ina Jarger degree 
even than than the people) only feclat ease and peace in their minds 
when, by their ideas and all ther acts, they narrowly, blindly follow 
tradition and routine: * We must think and act like this, because our 
fathers did so formerly and everybody around us thinks and acts im 
the way. Why should we therefore do otherwise These 
words express the philosophy, the conviction and the practice of ninety 
of every hundred of mankind, taken at random in all 
classes af society, And,as TP have already ol served, there hes the 
vreatest obstacle to prowress and the qore rapid) emancpation of 


Chive 
act as 
They end 
» and inst). 
Incorporated 


Satie 


mee out 


humanity. 


To de continued 


The total meunt of bibour needed to provide for our wants will [we 
Food. half au hour's labour daily ¢ clothing, fifteen minutes 

houses, ete. dadf an hewur'’s fabour: that is (assamins 
lid tetaloof 2) hour's labour daily world 


ani ices Bei supply us iiabundanee with all the comforts of life. The 
Are 


as follows ; 
labour daily 
CVery mitt his stitre), it 
progress of invention and the mereasine appleation of machiners 
daily reducing even the amount of Tivbour, so that the part which tas 
new myunly to be plaved hw man, is simply te superintend the machin- 


ery Which dieew the work =- Willian Hoyle 


Arevsr, [8N4. 


TT 
eae 


THE BALANCE OF POWER. 


> e< 

It is scarcely necessary to disclaim a too close svuipa- 
thy with that startlng phenomenon of civilization, the 
homb-thrower; but we are blind indeed if we do not 
observe and take into account the mmoamense revolntion 
of ideas he is effecting in the administration of human 
affairs We imay condemn and denounce him, as we do 
without stint; he goes on heedlessly and unconcerned 
—the increasing frequency of his acts shows how power- 
less are established institutions to suppress him. He 
has come, not only to slay, but to stay. 

The pulpit and the press have heaped coals of fire 
upon the heads of “ these miscreants.” ; 
edastards has been heard on all sides. Indeed, this is 
natural enougo. Their motives have been largely hidden 
with the necessary secrecy of their operations. They 
have determined, however, to refute this charge of 
cowardice with becoming grace. One after another have 
yielded up their hves, the most priceless of their posses- 


sions, in order to add a proud digmity to thei devotion. 


Indeed they have counted their very executions as so 
much propaganda,” and religiously refused to take the 
smallest advantage occasion has offered to clear them- 
selves of guilt. hey have believed themselves to be 
the avengers of wrong, and have died with a serenity as 
sublime as that which actuated the early Christians. 

The bomb-thrower 1s essentially a brave ian, a man 
of quick sympathies, and vigorous in action. He is the 
agent of a new terror mainly on account of the moral 
justification that stimulates him. We are all of us con- 
vinced, in our innmerinost hearts, that Society is respon- 
sible tor his actual existence. He points with supreme 
scorn, as well he may, to a civilization which, im order 
to mamtam itself, is ooliged to have recourse to modern 
nalitarism, Sut still, two wrongs do not make one 
right: let us therefore cease to justify either, and Gon- 
demn without partiality. Tt may be difficult to do so, 
Inasmuch as the bomb-thrower invariably brings panic 
with his new tmanifestation of covertiment. which clouds 
our moral vision, but at mast be done. We readity 
enough perceive the evil of his act, but entirely overlook 
its unconscious nanistry for good. 

[tis idle to suppose that the execution of the bomb- 
thrower will change the Course of events. Tle may ‘ halt 
for breathing space” and to reconnoitre the situation, 
and when Society toudly supposes hinn to be utterly dis- 
mayed, and relaxes its rigor a consequence, he will 
thunder forth agai, and i the most unexpected place. 
The more he is executed, the wider the breach opens ; 
and finally, a form of ‘ possession” seizes him which 
maddens him to strike, more terrible often, beeanse vam, 
lessly, and without discretion. ‘Phe act of mate Henry 
Was a Consequence of the police repression which. re- 
sulted from: the act of Auguste Vaillant. 

Gunpowder changed the old methods of war, and 
shitted the balance of power. Serence has reduced to 
Impotence the mere supremacy of numbers. ‘The more 
Inodern concentrated explosives have supplanted the rifle 
and the sword. Phe very destructiveness of our modern 
wartare tends to deter statesmen from gomgto war. Tt 
would be impossible to anticipate the outcome of a con- 
test between two great powers, if all the latest appliances 
of chemistry and mechanics were put into play. ‘Thus 


every advance made in the manufacture of weapons of 


destruction has brought increased respect, in the long 
rin, to those who have become possessed of such sources 
ofstreneth. The individual Nihilist is more feared by the 
Cvar than a whole army of serfs. The result is that the 
lomblest eitizen merits at least some consideration, and 
there ds cultivated a dispositions to rermove those crush 
Hie btirdens from the sdroutders of thre people, Where 
despa is fast gouding them oon to tasurreetion. 


The oly thine thet naiuihiid yey liad, ‘ay probably 


The ery of | 


LIBe ey. 59 


ever will, worship, is pov. Even the devotees of God 
have always mi omuand the attribute of ommipotence, 
Majority-rule has uo better moral apology than its power 
to execute its will. And so, when Scrence shall pro- 
vide individuals with still more potent, still more terri- 
ble engines of destruction, it may come to pass that we 
shall pay some respect, if imdeed, we do not lift our hats, 
to the bomb-thrower, 

The century will not pass, in my opinion, withont 
realizing man’s long dream of traversing the air. Crookes 
has told of the potential energy of ether. Keely chums 
to have discovered the key to this energy, and to have 
surpassed all previous conceptions of a@rouautics. In his 
suspension of gravity, or meantpulation and utilization of 
the polar flow, he has approached the realization of 
Lytton’s suggestion of enfin the Comings Race," in 
being able to draw unlimited energy from the atmosphere 
and put it to mechanical use without storage. Dewar 
doubts not that Keely may lift thousands of tons in the 
ar. This new application of mechanical physics, this 
wider Comprehension of correlative forces, is destined to 
supply a single individual with a greater grip of power 
than Jove ever wielded, when of old, he hurled down 
amongst men the thunderbolts of heaven, 

Yes, this new balance of power is destined to achieve 
mighty results, before which established tyranny will 
pale. But all the devastation wrousht by the new 
agencies will be as naught compared with the horrors 
inflicted upon the people by statesmen in the past. 
“Man dres't ina little brief authority” will no longer 
subdue his weaker fellow, and enslave and degrade him, 
when itis found to be so dangerous to do so. Aneraot 
fellowship will dawn at last. [t 1s the monopoly of force 
Which to-day engenders the social antagonisins. When 
there comes a tnore equal diffusion of power, the neces- 
sity of employing power will no longer exist, and Anarchy 
will be realized at last. 


Hiknry SkYMOUR. 


INTERNATIONAL NOTES 


= rod - 


Comrade Meunier has been seutenced to penal servitude for life. 
He was absolutely a stranger to the facts of which he was accused. 
The Freneh pole, unable to discover the authors of the explosions at 
the restaurant Very and the Lobau barracks, charged all Anarchists 
which fell into their hands with these facts, und finally fixed these 
charges on Meunier, because a wourun, with whom Meunier bad quar- 
relled, told absurd stories about him. Notwithstanding that Meunier 
was able to prove, by six witnesses, an alibi, a jury was found in 
France to find hin guilty ! 


We are oppossed to all acts of blind (indisoriminate) violence ; but 
it seems to us that the bourgeots, in condemning as they do, with or 
without proofs, every Anarehist, are the direct provocators of and 
principe: tly respousible for vets like the attempts in the Liceo theatre 
and the Cate Terminus. 


We send to Meumer the expression of our sympathy. He has 
alwavs been a decided upholder of the workers’ cause, which is the 
cause of justice, freedom and bappimess for all. ‘Phe chairman of the 
assizes reproached dam with continually arguing ou his fellow-workers 
to resist the oppression of the masters. For this the bourgeois hated 
hom and the workers loved him and repyret his absence. 


We hope tosee Meumer back among aus. The bourgeois condemned 
him to perpetual lmiprisonment. But how long is the" perpetuality i 
of the capitalist organization gory to last + 


The latest aformation we have of our Comrade Meunier (Keuter’s 
Agency) is that he bas tefased to sign an appeal, all whe kaew hom 
expected nothing fnooprivate hte be penth:, and 4s 
sympathetic as a won, butin propaganda, consistent and courageous, 


lens Wits 


Mancwesten ANARCHIST Draw. ‘bhe winning numbers are 314, 
295), 284, 506, 359, 775, S21, 209, 724, 22, 526, 393. This draw 
was started in order to meet the heavy expenses meurred in the 


valiant fierlt ter Free Speech waged hy our comrades last winter. 
ft dias been vers sdecesstal, though still leaviny them iat vpood deal 


debt 


bh 


60) Ley Be 


ig - 7 —— : = — = Se 


HAVis YOU NOT HEARD HOW IT HAS GONE WITH MANY A CAUSE BEFORE NOW; 
FIKST, FEW MEN HEED IT; NEXT, MOST MEN CONTEMN IT; LASTLY, ALL 
SEN ACCEPT IT—AND THE CAUSE IS WON! 


‘LIBERTY " js a journal of Anarchist-Communism; but articles on all phases of the Revolu 
tlonary movement will be freely adinitted, provided they are worded in suitable language, No 
contributions should exceed one column jin length. The writer over whose signature the article 
appears is alone responsible for the opinions expressed, and the Editer in all matters reserves to 
himself the fullest right to reject any article. 

We would ask our contributors, to write plainly and on one side of the paper only. 

All Communications shonld be addressed, — The Editor, Liberty, 7 Beadon Road, Hanmer 
smith, W. 

Subscription, 1s. 6d. per year, post free 
supplied by W. Reeves, 185, Fleet Street, H.C. 


Per quire of 27 copies, ts. 7d. post free. The trade 


To Correspondents. 


C. Srravanan and Wiyntk Fosrer. — Received 28. 6d. Justin time for 
Meunier Defence Fund; thanks for postal order for paper and 
pamphlets. 

T. H. Bent, Edinburgh.— Pamphlets sent as requested. 

A. Despres, Liverpool.— Pamphlets, cte., forwarded ; will send other 
papers. We are glad to find Liverpool Liberty Group so healthy. 


LIBERTY, 


LONDON, AUGUST, 1894. 


Between Ourselves. 


—— 9 —e 


As we go to press our Comrades Cantwell and Quinn have been 
sentenced to six months’ hard labor, couvieted on evidence which even 
the Daily Chronicle vdimits to be of the flimeiest Kind. Al) Socialists 
were excluded ; every one wishing te enter the court beme subjected 
to a close serutiny, and refused admission at the diseretion of the 
police. 


They were remanded no less than five times and the charge was 
converted more than once 
duct, then it was incitement to murder the Royal Faniuly. inally our 
comrades were committed on four charges: 1, imettement to murder; 
2, seditious Iibel (a new charge, by the was); 38) the publieation of 
the leaflet “Why Vaillant threw othe bomb?" (whieh charge was a 
deliberate invention); and finally, a charge under the Explosives Act 
onthe ground of amanuseript found at Sidmouth Mews, bemy a recipe 
for the composition of explosives. 


At. first it was a charge of disorderly con- 


At this juncture of the case an attempt was made onthe part of the 
prosecution to gmpleate the whole of the Commonuvral (rroup, by 
committing Quin ou the same charge, Mr. Parrelly however, very ably 
combated this point, porting ont that from the fet of Quinn ‘being 
a member of the Group. it by no means followed that he had any 
knowledge of the existence of the uuinuseript in cuestion 
therefore not committed ander the Jexplosives Act but was finally com. 
mitted on the other three charees. 


Quinn wis 


We may safely conclude that this case das arisen out of existine 


prejudices and in COTE COTETTO® of pres vious events The Poster shown 


on Tower Hill contaimed vothine more seditious thitn may be read 
week hy week in, wiv, fe ynolds for dastanee > hut whea similar or 
identical expressions are used by men known to profess Anarchist 
opinions a different imipressron is conveyed. This was well stated ani 
exemplified by the prosecutiug counsel while Wolliaaim= Morris was in 
When about to state the 


which constitute the allecwed roerteonrent the cotttisel interciptedd with 


the withess boy. Mean ob thee fore dies 
“Tt does uot matter what the writer diplies, the question is what the 
prisouers rmply [uo the same way deteetives were allowed te spoith 
of previous specehes tide by the prisoners, While the defenmee wes ret 
permitted torntrodece any eviderer respecting: there previous speeches 

Strange are the wavs of "law Jeu Give receives a. setitetiee af 
two vears fora couple of dines contiimed ia beak of soo pisces, thy 
contention berg that those dies eprromase the meanimie of the loch 


The precisely opposite contettrone 1s alleged to owercrule an tle preset 


ie ys ay 


Ne tT I 


BE, PNG 
a O 
ease, Where four lines are beld to mean something ofhker than the 
from which they are taken means asa whole. Law's CONSISteney 
to be found im one pommt funk at the Anarchist Idea. hy okt 
present charge consists, first and last, in prosecution of the Idea va 


poet 


The most suspicious feature of this case is th: 
$ that 


the prosecut | 
‘ Uting 
counsel has said week after week : & 


has “! We have not yet formulated ouy 
charge. Suddenly, then, this manuscript concerning explosivey ; 
brought forward, ‘The thing is suggestive. eos 

Comrade Kropotkin contributes a very able article on « Mutual Aid 
in the Medieval City,” the first of (wo papers, to the Nineteenth Ci nt 
The mediaeval city, he pomts out, was not simply a political amon, 
sation for the protection of certain political liberties ; it was an atten 4 
at organising, on a much grander scale than in a village community 
close ution for mutual aid and support, for consumption and ptvnihagh. 
ion, and tor social life altogether, without imposimg upon men the fer 
ters of the State, but giving full liberty of expression to the 
genius of each separate group of individuals in art, crafts, 
commerce, and political organisation.” 


ty 


tet. 
CTealive: 
SCIENCE, 


Au Kngtish translation, by Ralph Derechef, of Felix Dubois’ book 
“The Anarchist Peril” is published by Fisher Unwin, Latin, 
This is the book of a journalist, and moreover, of a journalist of the 
Figaro; that means to say, it contains all that is necessary to vet at 
sale among the curious, but nothing showmg any sincere desire for 
discovering the truth aud making it known to the public. Drawings 
reproduced from the Pere Petnward, sensational phrases, picked out at 
hazard fromthe Anarchist press, anda little chronology of the exterior 
dramatic incidents of the French Anarebist movement, form the main 
part ot the book, Phere is no understanding found of the Anarchist 
ideas, their origin, evolution, and outcome. 


nye 


To judge the book and its author it is sufficient to read what he 
says about Bakunin. ‘This unportant personality, who will have had 
on the events of this century a much larger influence than we yet 
Imagine, and who left in the spirit of those who knew him such a pro- 
fouad impression and deep affection, isto M. Dubois, a suspect person, 
perhaps a spy! 


M. Dub ns only knows, aud in an entirely superficial way, the Anareh- 
isin Parts of the Jast few vears. He derives these manifestations 
of Auarehism whieh are all he is aware of, directly from Bakunin, 
whilst to the trends of Bakunin they appear rather to be the nepa- 
tion of the Bakunist tradition. 


Bakunin meets with an equal want of proper understanding at the 
hands of Mr. Morrison Davidson, who, in the Westininster Gazette of 
July 12th, and the Weekly Times of July 28th, puts himself forward 
as a sort of historian of the Anarchist theories. 


Referring to his statements im the former article we cau shortly reply 
(contradicting his assertions) that Bakunin (who died in £876, vot im 
1878) hid not write the lines quoted from a‘ Kevolutionary Catech- 
ism’ which was vof read at the trial of Nevehageff, which trial did aot 
take place in L387) (but early in 1873). 


The facts about this Revolutionary Catechism’? are briefly these : 
at the trial of a number of students, ete, with whom Netehajeff, 
when in Russia, had associated, the document referred to was read 
from a copy tm cypher; uo proof was ever brought forward. that Bua- 
kunin was the author of it}; whilst ait) suited the purposes of unfair 
polenies congenial to Karl Marx to aseribe this and some other 
pubheations to Bakunin, it with the greatest amount of 
probability, os well from internal evidence as from the oral testimony 
of men who have known aft the time both Bakunin and Netehajetf, 
that the latter was the author of ait, and documentary proof could be 
brought forward to show how strongly Bakunin disagreed with seme 
of Netehayef?s chief ideas. Moreover, in a letter addressed to the 
Journal de Geneve (published on Sept. 25th, 1873) Bakunin, referring 
“You attribute to me writings with the 
And, finally, there 
Bakunin, 


results 


to these pubheations, sara: 
publication of which T have uothimg to do.” 
exist in mmanusenpt, two “Revolutionary Catechisms "by 
none of whieh has a line in common with that from wiieh Mr. Mor- 
risou Davidson, repeating the oll Marxist slanders, quotes. 


To show further, how Jistory is written by Mr. Morrison Davidsen, 
heosays (Westuiuster Guaedte) that after “an abortive Anarchist 


"at Lyons iu (S70 the declaration of the Lyous Anarchist per 
: Now 


Pistia 
soners from whieh he quotes a long extract was read mn court 


who of his readers will imagine, that this “rising took place on 
Sept. 28th, E870 durmy the Franco-German War (Bakunin took 
partinmait) whilst the decliration was rend at the trial ef the Lyons 


TH conelivhes with the 
all, haw: 


and other Anarchists on Jan. 2srd, 2S8s ! 
words: © What scomtdrels are we 2 We 
ledore for all, Wo and) for 


want bread fou 


Witt inctependence an 


work fry a a 


pasties.” (Et was publishe bits an Mielish Leathe at the fim tt 
this may be one of the earhest Buglish Anareliest publications ) 
‘ ‘ Te ‘ay het 
We think before establishing fanciful distinetions bet ween : Pte 
os ; aaa i} 
tian aed“! Materadost ° Nnarehosm and similiar nonsense, Mi 4h 
. . esau TaN 
misen Dievulsorm owebt to raferm himself on the vers out lites . 


history of Anarchist theortes, 


WRT RT, 


Sevan, PME het 


i RR 


THE DUTIES OF THE PRESENT HOUR. 
By ERRICO MALATESTA, 


Reaction is let loose upon us from all sides. The 
bourgeoisie, Infuriated by the fear of losing her privileges, 
will use all moans of repression to suppress not only the 
Anarchist and Socialist, but every progressive 
ment. 

It is quite certain that they will not be able to pre- 
vent these outrages which served as the pretext of tlits 
present reaction; on the contrary, the measures which 
bar all other outlets to the active temper of some seer 
expressly calculated to provoke and multiply them, 

But, unfortunately, It is not quite certain that they 
may not succeed in hampering our propaganda by 
re nidering the circulation of our press very difficult, hy 
inprisouing a great number of our comrades, and by 
leaving no other means of revolutionary activity open to 
us than secret meetings, which may be very useful for 

-the actual execution of actions determined on, but which 
cannot make an idea enter into the mass of the pro- 
leturiate. 

We would be wrong to console ourselves with the 
old illusion that persecutions are aldimays useful to the 
development of the ideas which are persecuted. ‘This 
is wrong, as almost all generalisations are Persecutions 
may help or hinder the triataph of a cause, according to 
the relation existing between the power of persecution 
and the power of resistance of the persecuted , and past 
history contains examples of persecutions which stopped 
and destroyed a movement as well as of others which 
brought about a revolution. 

Hence we must face, without weakness or allusion, 
the situation mto which the dbowrgeotste has placed us 
to-day and study the means to resist the storm aud to 
derive from it the greatest possible profit: for our catise. 

There are comrades who expect the triumph of our 
ideas from the multipheation of acts of individual vio- 
lence. Well, we may differ in our opimions on the moral 
value and the practical effect of individual aets om 
general, and of each act im particular, and there are im 
fact on this subject among Anarchists various divergent 
and even directly Opposed currents of opinion; but one 
thing is certam, namely, that with a number of bombs 
and a number of blows of the knife, a society like bour- 
geors society cannot be overthrown, beme based, as it 
Is, OM ah eHOrimous Hiss Of private mterests and preyu- 
dices, and sustamed, more than itis by the force of arms, 
by the inertia of the masses and them habits of submis- 
SION. 

Other things are necessary to bring bout a revolution, 
and specnuly the Anarchist revolution. Pt is necessary 
that the people be conscious of them riehts and ther 
strength ; it is necessary that they be ready to fleht and 
realy to take the conduct of their affairs into their own 
hands. Itanust be the coustant preoccupation of the 
revolutionists, the port towards which all thei activity 
must aim, to hiring about this state of mind amone the 
IMaSSeS. ‘Tie brilliant acts of a few midividtals may help 
in this work, but cannot replace ity anda im es they 
are only useful aif they are the result of 
movement of sprit of the masses and HeCOML 
plished under such cireumistinces that the misses un- 
derstand them, svmpathise with, and profit 

Woe to us, Woe to our cause if we 
ity, Walting from: time 
Vaillant 
the cnuse and be admired for ther 
pects the emancipation of manmktid to come, 
the persistent and diarmonious co-operation of all men 

from the accidental or providencuel hag 
not better 
Witerveditiow of ay 


MOVE = 


ic ollec tive 
sda 


hy then, 
reniaih dy daeetay- 
to time for men Lhe Caserio and 


\\ bio em 


rat 


bravery ; 
fronts 


of prowress, but 
Perini of 
than Ohne 


sore aets of breroisai. is “advised 


Who expects it from the 
PHA UEROUES levishator or aft a Vietorous veneral, 


Pallas and Berkinatn to saeritice their dives for 


ney. 61 
Ee ne eae LER en TR ee ee ee 

After all, aa any bat oa very Hmited aumber of 
Individuals do really c mmmuat aets of this hind. And the 
others? What are we dome. we, the grent majority of 
Amochists, who throw no bombs and kill no tyrants ? 
Must we content ourselves with praising the dead and 
wit with equanimity of conscience for others to come 
forward to get killed? Et is Hnportant that we should 
avree as to the line of conduet fitted for the bnolk of 
Anarchists: which would not prevent individuals of ex- 
ceptional energy and devouion bringing to the stragete 
their personal audac itv and saerifice. 

What have we to doin the present situation ? 

Betore all, omy opmion, wemust as muchas possible 
resist the laws; Danight almost say we must ignore them, 

Thedevree of freedom, as well as the degree of exploita- 
tion adios whiel: we ee Is Hot at allyor only in aw small 
measure, dependent upon the letter of the law: it depends 
before all upon the resistance offered to the laws. One 
can be relatively free, notwithstanding the existence of 
dracoman Jaws, provided custom is opposed to the gov- 
ernment making use of them; while, on the other side, 
I spite of . eunmintees granted by laws, one may be at 
the merey of all the violence of the police, if they feel, 
that they can, without beige punished, make short work 
of the liberty of the citizens, 

In laly, the government used to dissolve, from time 
to time, such assocnitions as they considered dangerous 
to the monarchical tmstitutions. Protests, and cries of 
indignation were raised and, what is most important, 
the dissolved societies were forthwith reconstituted + and 
the government could not but let this pass, and its aims 
to suppress the meht of assomation of its opponents 
were contintuudly frustrated, After having several 
times used this method agunust the Tnternatronal Work- 
Ingmenms Association (which, im Italy, was from the be- 
einning Anarchist) and not succeeding im making it 
discppear, the government dat upon prosecuting 1ts 
members as persons aflilinted to an association of crimi- 
mus. But th was luipossigie to prosecute all, From 
tithe to time arrests were made, sentences passed ; the 
accused openly vindicated ther ideas and the right to as- 
soclate for them propagation ; the sections of the [nter- 
ational continued them work, and im the end, whilst a 
mianber of individuals suffered) personally and those 
Who feht agemst the existing ocder of things must ex- 
pect to suffer the aims of the government were frus- 
trated and the propaganda profited by it ever so much, 
But then Anarchists began to say that to form associa- 
tions meant giving an opportumity for prosecution of 
associations of criminals to the government; they caus- 
ed the dissolution of the existing association, combated 
all efforts to reorganise it and, in this way, volan- 


CEE. 


tarily renounced the right of association.  Phis did 
not, of course, prevent a smele condemnation; on the 


CONTTALY, Anarchists are aceused of forming 
criminal associations if perchance they meet each sabhicer 
iat cafe—they may even not know one another — simply 
becutse they are Anarchists. 


The 


wealnst ous 


at present 


resuits of 
will 
ourowhattitude, 


the new tows which are beige forged 

depend to a large degree, upon 
It weotferenergetic resistance, they wall 
at once appear to puble opimuon as a shameless viola- 
tiomof all tain meht and will be condenmed to spocdy 
extinetion orto remain a dead letter, 
we accommodate ourselves to them, they will rank wath 
contemporary political customs, which will, later on, 
have the disastrous result of giv ne fresh importance to 
the 
breech aes, 


If, on the concrary, 


strogele for political liberties (of speaking, writing, 
the cause 
sighit of the social question, 


combining, ane associating) and be 
nore or less of lostiag 

Weare to be 
Jet us 
They Walt ta proser. be the 
aloud 


prevented frotn expressing our ideas : 
thrat 
bitte of 


less anid 
Vt Py 
that we aire ANwarehogsts 


hoo se qrotie bie more thi ever, 


Anarchist : let 


ns shout The nicht ot 


62 LIB 


74 utstT, 1894, 


—_—_—_——— OE 


association as to be denied us: let us associate as we Can, 
and prochum that we are associated, and mean to be. 
This hind of action, Pam quite aware, is hot without 
difficulty i the state things are in at present, and can 
only be pursued within the limits and inthe way which 
commonsense will dictate to everybody according to the 
different cueumstances they tive under. But det us 
always remember that the oppression of governments 
has no other limits than the resistance offered to it. 

Those Socialists who imagine to escape the reaction 
by severing their cause from that of the Anarchists, not 
only give proof of a narrowness of view which Is ico 
patible with aims of radical reorganisation of the social 
system, but they betray stupidly their proper interest. 
If we should be crushed, their turn would come very 
SOON. 

But before all we must go among the people: this is 
the way of salvation for our cause. 

Whilst our ideas oblige us to put all our hopes im the 
masses, because we do not believe in the possibility of 
imposing the good by force and we do not want to be com- 
manded, we have despised and neglected all manitesta- 
tions of popular life ; we contented ourselves with simply 
preaching abstract theones or with acts of imdividual 
revolt, and we have become isolated. Hence the want 
of success of what J will call, the first period of the 
Anarchist movement. 
propaganda and struggle, after so much devotion and so 
many muartyrs, we are to-day nearly strangers to the 
great popular commotions which agitate Europe and 
America, and we find ourselves ina situation which per- 
nits the governments to foster, without plamly appear. 
ing absurd, hopes to suppress us by some police 
Measure. 

Let us reconsider our position. 

To-day, that which always ought to have been our 
duty, which was the logical outcome of our ideas, the 
condition which our conception of the revolution and 
reorganization of society imposes on us, namely, to live 
among the people and to win them over to our ideas by 
actively taking part im their strageles and suffermes, to- 
day this has become an absolute necessity imposed up- 
on us by the sieuation whieh we have to live under. 
Our ordinary means of propaganda the press, meetinyes, 
groups of more or less convinced adherents of our ideas 

-at any rate fora certam: time, will becote tore and 
more difheult to be used. Tt as only in working-men’s 
associations, strikes, collective revolts where we can find 
a waste held for exercising our miflience wid propagating 
our ideas. Butaif we want to succeed, let as remember 
that people do not become Anarchists ia single day, by 
hearme some violent speeches, and let us above all avoid 
falling into the error common to many comrades, who 
retuse to associite with working men who are not already 
perfect Anarchists, whilst it is absolutely necessary to 


associate with them ia order to make them become 
Aniarehists. 
The Movement in Manchester. 


To the Mditor of Laherty 
A deliberate attempt made here in’ Manchester by the 
“Wroateh-Commiuttee of the Mauchester Corporation fo suppress the 
“oght of Puble Meeting? "Phey have given instructions to the Chief 
Constable to suppress anyaimeetings held dy Anarchists, and acting up. 


Yas been 


on toistructions recerved, Chief Deteetive: Cunninada suppressed ile 
usual meeting held an Stevenson Sq. oon Snoday afternoou, July sth 
The reason according to the Press (and we have none from auy other 
source) beme that the Anarchists have spoken approvingls ‘af the 
assitsstnation of President Carnot. ‘The truth or falsehood of the above 
Heeusttien seems tous te be beside the mark. the question at issue is, 
ought the suppression of any public meetings te be allowed om aecotnt 
of whrtone or two of the speakers tis dave sant? Tb any one is 
wutty of an attewad et fet that person. be prosecuted, but do not let us 
Wie 
Poremain, 
Manehester AC G 


allow such oa dhincereus precedent as this te pass without protest 
appeal to all 
Youts traternally , 


lovers of whoet ps recht fer there assistutree 


Apraet Ss Hous. Ses 


After more than twenty years of 


| 


PROUDHON AND COMMUNISM. 


The so-called Proudhontains like to tellus that in preaching Tudivid 


ualisiy and private appropriation they follow his teachings. This 
is What Proucdhon wrote in his last work on Property, the “Moors 
published in 1866, after his death. After having 
developed in that work the ideas that, with the present z 


of Property,” 
; 5 development 
of State, private property is the only means of defending 
liberty against the State,—he wrote the following char 
conclusion to his work (pp. 244-246). 


imin's 
acteristic 
| mu 

0 private property he 


personally preferred Slavonte or Communal possession of land. 


I have unfolded the considerations which render 
the idea of private property intelligible, rational, justifi- 
able, without which it would be usurpatory and hateful, 
And yet, even on those terms, it Contains somethiny of 
that selfishness which is always antipathetic to me, M 
levelling reason, always against being governed, and an 
enemy to the rage and abuses of power, 18 prepared to 
allow proprietorship to be kept up asa shield and posi- 
tion of safety for the weak: but my heart will never 
be with at. As far as I am concerned, 1 feel no 
necessity for this concession either for the purpose of 
gaining my own bread, or to fulfil my civie duties, or tor 
my own happiness. | have no need to meet it with 
others that To may aid their weakness and respect. their 
rights. J have sufficient energy of conscience and intel- 
Jectual force to suitably maimtain all my relations with 
my neighbours, without it, and if the majority of my 
fellow citizens resemnbled me—-what need would there 
be of that institution 2? Where would be the danger of 
tyranny 2 Where the danger of ruin by competition 
and free trade? Where would be the danger for the 
little man, the pupil, or the workman? Where would he 
the need of pride, ambition, ana greed which cannot 
satisfy itself except by the numensity of appropration ? 

A small house, held on hire, the use of a garden would 
he amply suffient for mes my occupation not being to 
cultivate the soil, the vine, ora meadow, F do not, require 
a park or a large inheritance, and oven if TE were a 
husbandman and vine-dresser, Slavome forme of posses- 
sion would satisfy me, rez, the share falling to each head 
of a family in each commune — f cannot tolerate the 
Insolence of the man who with his foot on land which he 
merely holds by a free concession, forbids us to pass 
over it, and prevents our gathering a flower in his field 
or to walk over a foot path. 

When TL sec all these fences in the suburbs of Paris 
which take away a view of the country and the enjoy- 
ment of the soi from the poor pedestrian, mry blood 
fairly boils. bask myself whether such proprietorship 
which thus ties up each person within his own house is 
not rather expropriation and expulsion from the land. 
Private Property! J sometimes meet with these words 
written in darge letters at the entrance to an open 
road and which resembles a sentinel forbidding you to 
advance any farther, T confess, my manly dignity fairly 
bristles up in disgust. Oh?! E remain with regard to 
this on the standpoint of Christian religion, which recom- 
mends abnegation, preaches modesty, simplicity of mind, 
and poverty of heart. Away with the ancient patrician, 
nnmerciful and covetous ; away with the msolent baron, 
the wreedy bourgeois, and the harsh peasant, drus 
arator. ‘These people are odious to me! TP can neither 
like them nor look at them. Tf [ should ever find my- 
self a proprietor PE should be one of that kind whom (rod 


and men, especially the poor forgive ! 


Native-born Persons in {,OOO Inhabitants. 


Coanited Kangdom Ot Belorum PUR 
Crerimany 7.4 France lad 
. ; ey) 
ltals On) Switzerland pea 
Helland ORR Uinted States Sob 

” as We . 

ft ois manifest that our poy dation os essentiadls ear gwn, Frame 


Varlhell, Ise? 


heya 6 times as tay foreigu settlers 


LSO-4. 


ACGUBT, 


Li Bis Ty 


THE VOICE OF TOIL. 
By WILLIAM MORRIS 


I heard men saying, Leave hope and praying 
All days shall be as all have been ; 

To-day t and to-morrow bri ing fear and sorrow 
The never-ending toil between. 


When Earth was younger mid toil and hunger, 
In hope we strove, and our hands were strony ; 

Then great men led us, with words they fed us, 
Aud bade us right the earthly wroug. 


Go-read in story their deeds and glory, 
Their names amidst the nameless dead ; 
Turn then from lying to us slow-dying 
In that good world to which they ie 


Where fast and faster our iron master, 
The thing we made, for ever drives, 

Bids us grind treasure and fashion pleasure 
For other hopes and other lives. 


Where home is a hovel and dull we grovel 
Forgetting that the world is fair ; 

Where no babe we cherish, lest its very soul perish, 
Where our mirth is crime, our love a snare. 


Who now shall lead us, what god shall heed us 
As we lie in the hell our hands have won? 
For us are no rulers but fools and befoolers, 
The great are fallen, the wise men gone. 
® ) a * « e 


Theard men saying, Leave tears and praying 
The sharp knife heedeth not the sheep ; 

Are we not stronger than the rich and the wronger, 
When day breaks over dreams and sleep? 


Come, shoulder to shoulder cre the world grows older ! 
Help lies in nought but thee and me ; 

Hope is before us, ‘the long years that bore us 
Bore leaders more than men my be. 


Tet dead hearts tarry and trade and marry, 
And trembling nurse their dreams of mirth, 
While we the living our lives are giving 
To bring the bright new world to birth. 


Come, shoulder to shoulder ere earth grows older! 
The Cause spreads over land and sea 

Now the world shaketh, and fear awaketh, 
And joy at last for thee and me. 


[The verse printed in iti alies above forms part of the charge upon 
which our comrades T. Cantwell and ©. T. Quinn are committed for 
trial for inciting Henry Braden and others to murder the royal 
family !—Ep. } 


MY UNCLE BENJAMIN. 


ro<- 
CHAPTER ITT. 


After having recovered his breath and wiped his brow, for he was 
sweating, my worthy great-uncle, with emotion and wrath, took my 
grindfather aside, and said to him : 

“Suppose we invite this brave man and this glorious poodle to break- 
fast with us at Manette’s 2” 

“Wurm! ham tl’? objected my grandfather. 

“The devil 1? replied Benjamin,” meet every day a 
poodde who has made an English captain prisoner, and every day poli 
fieal banquets are given to people who are not worth this honorable 
quadruped.”’ 

“But have you any money 7 am 
thirty-sou piece, which your sister 
Velieve, it is imperfectly coined, and “shee urgently 
bring he oy back at Jeast half.’ 

“For my part, T have not a sou, but Tam Manette’s physician, just 
as she from time to time is my tavernkeeper, and we give each other 
ere dite” 

“ Manctte’s physician only ? 

“What's that to vou?” 

‘Nothinu; but I warn you that To will not stay more than an hour 
at Manette’s.”” 

Soomy unele extended his invitation to the The Jatter 
arcepted without ceremony, and joyfully placed Himself between my 
Unele and my grandfather, wi alkine in what soldiers call lock 

Thev met a o which a pe ested was driving to pasture, 
Undoubtedly by Benjamin's coat, he sudde nly starte ‘es o lim. = My 
Unele dodged his horns, and, as he had seleared ata 
bound, with No hore effort th: i it he had CURT FH cape PF, ek semi t diteh 
that separated the road from the fields. ‘The bull, who was undoubt- 
edly determined to make aslash in the red coat, tried to follow 
Yacle's example; buat he fell into the metddle of the diteh. 
enough for you?” said Benjamen, that's what vou get by seeking a 
Quarrel with people who are net of But the 
quadruped, as obstinate as a Russian mounting te an assault, was not 
digeour, aged by this failure; planting his hoofs in the half-thawed 


one does not 


said my grandfather; “T have only a 
wave ime this Morning because, I 
recommended me to 


” 


sergeant. 


-step 
} 


Offe ded 


younts of steel, 


niyv 
5 (rood 


= 
dyeaming you. 


| 


ground, he tried to climb the slope. My uncle, seeing that, drew his 
sword, and, while he was pricking the enemy's snout to the best of his 
ability, he called the peasant, and erted | My good man, stop your 
beast ; vlaw ft wan you that Twill pass my rear through his body.” 
But as he said the words he let his sword fall mto the ditch. “ Take 
off Your coat, and throw it to him as quickly as you can,’ cried Mache- 
court, " Hide among the vines,” sud the peasant. “Sic him! sie 
him! Foutenoy,” said the sergeant. ‘The poodle leaped at the bull, 
and, as if he knew his enenry, bit him on the hanv-string. The animal 
then turned his wrath against the dog ; but, while he was mi: tking 
havoe with his horns, the peasant came up and sacceeded in passing a 
noose around the bull's hind legs. This skilful manauvre was per- 
fectly successful, and put an end to the hostilities. 

Benjamin returned to the read. He thought that Machecourt was 
going to laugh at him, but the latter was as pale as a sheet and trem. 
bled on his legs. 

“Come, Machecourt, brace up,” said my uncle; “ else T shall have to 
bleed you. And you, my brave Fontenoy, you have mado to- day a 
prettier fable than that of Ta Fontaine, entitled : ‘Tho Dove and the 
Ant.” You see, gentlemen, a good decd is never lost. Generally the 
benefactor is obliged to give long credit t> the bene ‘fictary, but he, 
Fontenoy, bad paid me in advance. Who the devil would have thought 
that [ would ever be under obligations to a poodle ?’ 

Monlot is hidden among a clump of willows and naglines on die left 
bank of the Beuvron river, atthe foot of a big hill, up which runs tho 
road to La Chapelle. A few houses of the village had already gone up 
by the side of the road, as waite and as spick and span as peasant 
women when they go into # place frequented by society ; ; among them 
was Manette’s wine-shop. At sight of the frost-covere { sign that huug 
from the attic window Benjamin began to sing with his stentorin 
Voice : 

“Amis, tl faut faire une piuse, 
J’apercois Pombre dun bouchon.” 


On hearing this familar voice, Manette ran blushing to the threshold 
of her door. 

Manette was really a very pretty person, plump, chubby, and white, 
but pe chips a little too pink; her elodk« would have ry aminde 1] you of 
a i50l of milk, on the surface of which a few drops of wine were float- 
ing. ‘ Gentleman,” satd Benj umin, “ permit me first of all to kisa our 
pretty hostess, a3 an appotizer for the good breakfast which she is go- 
Inz to prepare for us directly.” 

“Tudecd Monsieur Rathery !" exclaimed Manette, stirting back, 
‘you are not made for peisant women ; go and kiss Mademois-lle 
Minxit.” 

“Tt seems,” thought my uncle, “that the report of my marriage has 
alrevly spread through ths country. No one but M. Minxit can hive 
spokenof it; hence he mast bs determine { to have mo for a son-in-law ; 
so, if he shoul t not receive my visit to-day, that would not be a reason 
for breaking off the negotiations.” 

“ Manette,” he added, “ Mile. Minxit is not in question here; have 
you any fish?” 

“There are plenty of fish,” 
poi Oe 

‘Agun Task you, Manette,” 
Be careful what you answer, 

“Well,” said Manette, “ my husband has gone fishing, and he will 
soon return.” 

“Soon does not meet our e1ss, put on the gridiron as many slices 
of ham as it will hold, and make usan omelette of all the eggs in your 
hen-house.’ 

The breakfast was soon ready. While the omelette was leaping im 
the fryine-pan, the ham was broiling. Now, the omelette was almost 
as soon despatched as served. It takes ahen six months to lay twelve 
eggs, a Woman a quarter of an hour to convert them into an omelette, 
avnd three men five minutes to absorb the omelette. “ See,” said Ben- 
jamin, * how much more rapid is decomposition than recom position ; 
countries covered with a numerous population grow poorer every day . 
Man isa greedy infaut who makes his nurse grow thin; the ox does 
hot restore to the fields all the grass that he takes from it; the ashes 
of the oak that we burn do not return as an oak to the forest; the 
zephyr does not carry back to the rose bush the leaves of the bouquet, 
that the young girl scatters around her; the candle that burus in front 
of us does not fall back in waxen dew upon the earth ; rivers continu. 
ally desporl contiments, and lose in the bosom of the sea the matter 
Which they take from their banks; most of the mountains have no 
verdure Jeft ther big bald eraninms; the Alps show us their 
bare and jagged bones; the interior of Afmiea as nothing but a lake of 
sumd; Spam is a vast moor, and Italy charnelhouse where 
there remains only a bed of ashes.  W herever yreat people have passed, 
they have left ste rility in thei tracks. ‘Thas earth, adorned with ver- 
dure and with flowers, is) a econ tive whose cheeks are red, buat 
whose life is condemned. A time will come when it will be nothing 
but anoinert, dead, dey mass, a great seputchral stone upon whieh God 
‘Here lies the human race” Meantime, Jet us 
by the blessings whieh the earth vives us, aud, as she is a toler- 
let us drink to her long life? 
to the jam My vrandfather from a sense of 
eat to maint box bealth and aust have 
Benjamin ate for amusement; but. the 
for no other Purpose, 


suid Minette, M. Minxit’s fish 


in 


sud Benjamin, “ have you any fish ? 


Npon 


wm opreat 


will write : ventlemen, 
protit 
ably good mother, 
then 
Dad Hast 
fu 


aman whe sits down to table 


They cute ate 
duty, 
blood in order 

seryeant like 
and he did not utter a word. 


At table Benjamin wats 


dren yet 


Wm serve Writs 


wie 


fais; but his uoble stomach was not 


64 


exempt from jealousy, a base passion which dims the most brilhant 
qualities, 


LIBERTY. 


He watched the sergeant with the vexed air of a man outdone, as | 


Cesar would have watched, from the height. of the Capitol, Bonaparte 
winning the battle of Marengo. After having contemplated his man 
for some time in silence, he thought fit to address these words to 
him : 

“ Drinking and eating are two beings that resemble each other ; at 
first sight you would take them for own cousins. But drinking is us 
much wbove eating as the eagle who alights upon the mountain peak 
is above the raven who perches on the tree-top. Eating is a necessity 
of the stomach ; drinking is a neccessity of the soul. Eating is only 
a common workman, while drinking is an artist. Drinking inspires 
poets with pleasant ideas, philosophers with noble thoughts, musicians 
with melodious strains ; eating gives them only indigestion. Now, I 
flatter myself, sergeant, that I could drink quite as well as you; I even 
think that I could drink better; but, when it comes to eating, I am the 
merest nove b:side you You could cope with Arthus in person; I 
even think that on a turkey you could go him one wing better.” 

“ You see,” answered the sergeant, ‘I eat for yesterday, to-day, and 
to-morrow.” 

“Permit me then to serve you for the day after-to-morrow this las , 
slice cf hum.” 

“ Thank you very much,” said the sergeant, “there is an end to 
ee 

“Well, the Creator who has made soldiers to pass suddenly from 
extreme abundance to extreme want has given to them, as to the camel, 
two stomachs ; their second stomach is their knapsack. Take this ham, 
which neither Machecourt nor I want, and put it in your knapsack.” 

“No,” said the soldier, ‘‘ I do not we i to lay up provisions; I 
always get food enough ; permit me to offer this ham to Fontenoy ; we 
are in the habit. of sharing everything together, on days of feast as on 
days of fast.” 

“You have there, indeed, a dog who deserves to be well taken care 
of,” said my uncle ; “ will you sell him to me?” 

“ Monsieur !”’ exclaimed the sergeant, quickly placing bis hand upon 
his poodle. 

“Pardon me, worthy man, pardon me; I am distressed at having 
offended yuu; I spoke only in jest; I know very well that to propose 
to a poor man to sell his dog is like proposing to a mother to sell her 
child.” 

“You will never make me believe,” said my grandfather, “ that one 
can love a dog as much as a child; I, too, once had a poodle, a poodle 
that was well worth yours, sergeant,—be it said without offence to 
Fontenoy,—save that he has taken prisoner nothing but the tax-collee- 
tor’s wig. Well, one day, when I had lawyer Page to dinner, he ran off 
with # calf’s head, and that very night I passed him under the mill- 
wheel.”’ 

“ What you say proves nothing ; you have a wife and six children ; 
it is quite work enough for you to love all these people without form- 
ing » romantic affection for a poodle; but I am talking of a poor devil 
isolated among men and with no relative but his dog. Puta man with 
a doy in a desert idland, in another desert island put a woman with her 
ehild, and I will wager that in six month's time the man will love the 
dog, provided the dog is amiable, as well as the woman will love her 
ehild.” 

“ 1 oan conceive,” answered my grandfather, “ that a traveller may 
like a dog to keep him company, that an old woman that lives alone 
in her room may like a pug with which to babble all day long. But 
that a man should love a dog with real affection, that he should love 
him as a Christian, that is what I deny, that is what I deem impos- 
sible.” 

“ And I tell you that under certain circumstances you would love 
even a vail, the loving fibre in man canuot remain entirely in- 
ert. ‘The human soul abbors a vocuum; observe attentively the most 
hardened egoist, and at last you will find, like alittle flower among the 
stones, an affection hidden under a fold of his soul. 

“It is a general rule, to which there is no exception, that man must 
love something. ‘The dragoon who has no mistress loves his horse ; the 
young girl who has no lover loves her bird ; the prisoneF, Who cannot 
in decency love his Jailor, loves the spider that spins his web on the 
window of his cell, or the fly that comes down to him in a ray of sun- 
light. When we find nothing animate to absorb out affections, we love 
miterial objects,—a ring, a snuff-box, a tree, a flower; the Dutchman 
feels a passion for his tulips, and the antiquary for his cameos.” 

Just then Manette’s husband came in with a fat eel in his basket. 

“ Machecourt,” said Benjamin, ‘it. is noon,—that is to say, dinner- 
time ; suppose we make a dinner of this eel?" 


“Jt is time to go,” said Machecourt, “and we shall dine at M. Min- | 


xit’s.”” 

‘ And you, sergeant ? Suppose we eat the eel?” 

“For my purt,” said the sergeant, “ I am in no hurry ; as ] am not 
going anywhere in particular, I spend every night at home.” 

“Very well said! And the respectable poodle, what is bis opinion 
on this point ?”’ 

The poodle looked at Benjamin and wagyed his tail two or three 
times. 

“ Well, silence gives consent: so, Machecourt, there are three of us 
against you; you must bow to the will of the majority. The majority, 
you see, my friend, is stronger than the rest of the world. Put ten 
philosophers on one side and eleven fools on the pad flee aak 
will carry the day.” 


ather 


apr WE 


' NORWICH 


[Aucusr, 1894, 

“The eel is indeed a very fine one,” said my grandfather. « and. if 
Manette has a little bacon, it will make an excellent matelote But th 
devil! what about my writ? That must be served.’”’ ; = 

“Mark this,” said Benjamin ; ‘it will undoutedly be necessary fo 
some one to lend me his arm to escort me back to Clamecy. If = 
shirk this pious duty, I will no longer own you as my brother-in-law : 

Now as Marchecourt was very anxious to continue as Be 
brother-in-law, he semained. 


pDJamin’s 


To be continued. 


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